


Bitter Escapes

by arysthaeniru



Series: the city is an abyss [1]
Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M, Slums, crime verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-02-19 21:30:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2403563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arysthaeniru/pseuds/arysthaeniru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It’s not moral. We never thought it was, not when we started with pickpocketing men on the street and tricking old women out of their inheritances, nor now, when we play the games of business and politics and trafficking.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bitter Escapes

**Author's Note:**

> written for an exchange with Tumblr's genikrispies! Her piece is [ here](http://genikrispies.tumblr.com/post/98519674403/arysthaeniru-first-half-of-the-artist-writer)

It was colder than Sanada expected, outside on the balcony, underneath the bitterly cold night sky. Still, for once, Yukimura didn’t seem to be complaining about the chill, as he twirled an unlit cigarette in his hands, his eyes pensive. The city beneath them was lit bright with streetlights, hiding the bitter truths of the gloomy populace, the overcrowded streets and the grotty buildings, hastily thrown together in the expansion of the once beautiful town. It was a view that Sanada simultaneously hated and loved. “Those things can kill.” said Sanada, as he leant his back against the balcony rail, his eyes falling to the tube in Yukimura’s lithe, pale hands.

“I know.” said Yukimua, coolly, as he looked at the thin tube, critically. “It’s funny though, isn’t it? The reason that the slums are so poor and that people turn to crime is that the criminals sell this. This cripples families and creates future criminals who sell it back to the people to cripple more families.” he said, his voice dry, as he looked at it. “Yet for all of the damage and panic it causes, it’s just a plant wrapped in the skin of another plant.”

Sanada was quiet, his large hands still at his side, as he looked up at the night sky, not meeting Yukimura’s gaze. In this part of the city, the light pollution and the constant plumes of smoke from the power station obscured any chance of viewing the stars. “We do what we must to survive.” he said, quietly. “It’s not moral. We never thought it was, not when we started with pickpocketing men on the street and tricking old women out of their inheritances, nor now, when we play the games of business and politics and trafficking.”

The silence extended between them for some time as Sanada watched the blinking lights of a plane fly overhead, until he felt Yukimura’s head on his shoulder, a familiar and comforting action from his friend. Rarer as they got busier, but Yukimura’s presence at his side always managed to calm Sanada down, from the state of tension that made him such a valued criminal but that endangered his health. It was a deep trust in Yukimura that allowed Sanada to loosen his guard. Only one other person got that in this business and even Yanagi didn’t know Sanada so well.

“If you could quit crime now, would you?” asked Yukimura, on the tailend of a sharp breeze, his eyes lightly shut. “Would you fly away somewhere where the air is cleaner and you can see the stars at night?”

He didn’t know, honestly. His dreams were filled of cloudless blue skies and a long, green garden, where the only noise was the sound of trickling water, not the sounds of rushing cars and the creakings of the old pipes and the faint buzz of life that permeated city life. He dreamt of peace and children and a smiling Yukimura at his side, unmarred by years of toil.

“We have duty here. Even if it’s distasteful, I wouldn’t leave.” said Sanada, finally, crossing his arms against his chest. “There are too many people that depend on this.”

Yukimura’s deep, blue eyes met his, with a wry smirk at the corner of his mouth, as his head pulled away from Sanada’s shoulder. “Ah, you always remind me why I made you my second-in-command.” he purred, with a laugh. “You’re the only person I trust to not stab me in the back if they got a chance. Lord knows you’ve had plenty of chances to off me.”

Sanada’s mouth tightened as Yukimura pulled away, the blunt still in hand. “I return that trust. Don’t you dare run off without me.” he said, hotly. Or die on him, was the silent plea in Sanada’s voice.

With a sharp turn, Yukimura threw the blunt out far, his arm pulling back quickly and sharply, with the same ease that they’d thrown rocks as children. The cigarette flew off into the distance, towards the city below, quickly lost into the miasma of the city. “I would never.” said Yukimura, as he pushed his hands back into his pockets and tossed a charming smile towards Sanada. “Shall we?” he asked, inclining his head towards the interior of the apartment.


End file.
